Jain Visits Two Rivers
by Alan Scott
Summary: This short story about Jain Farstrider places him in the Two Rivers. The events probably take place some time just prior to the Trollocs attacking Rand's farm. The story is not one of those that Jain included in his own book.


**The Capture of Jain Farstrider**

 **Author's Note**

In Randland, no tales were more popular or more widely told than the Adventures of Jain Farstrider. While "higher" tales were sung by Court Bards, the Farstrider tales might be recited by wandering Gleemen or anyone who fancied himself capable. Some, like this story from the Two Rivers, were regional; they created and transmitted only by word of mouth, no part of Jain's book. No one knows the origin of this story, nor the time or place or true names of the folks in it. It _is_ the only tale that hints at Jain's personal life; and hence may have come from his own mouth. Or it may just be an older tale (from before the breaking?), with the name Farstrider added to give it spice. Perhaps it is a mix of both, concocted by a Gleeman to earn a coin. In any case it is now part of Farstrider lore, and always good for giving children a thrill around the campfire.

 **Chapter One**

Jain looked about him at the still smoldering houses and the trampled grounds. Aside from those kneeling over the wounded, there was no movement. Here at the stone fence all attention was focused outward, on the fields and forests where the Trollocs had had fled moments ago. He grasped the void and listened. In his focus, he gradually sorted out the groans of the injured, the crackle of burning wood, the sound of the horses over at the farriers, the wind, the small movements of those around him, his own breath. It all faded and he heard beyond hearing.

They were moving away. Not to the Northern Blight, where they belonged - if they could be said to belong anywhere - but to the south, through the Two Rivers, toward other towns and other people. The Myrddraal had them all together, feet drumming the road in their fast trot. He walked along the low stone wall to where Peet was resting, and knelt beside him.

"What lies that way?" Jain asked, pointing southeast.

"Nought there but the old logging road that leads to Barrow." Peet replied.

"Barrow. A village like this?"

"Some like, but bigger. It's a trading town, being which it is on the Mist River."

Jain sighed bitterly. The Town Council and the Women's Circle would not help him, and he should not ask them if they would; they had their hands full taking care of their own this night. Once again it was up to him.

Peet knew Jain, and knew that this was no idle question, no idle sigh. "They've gone that way then?" he asked. Jain merely nodded.

Peet leaned on his bow to stand up, groaning as he did so. "When do we follow?"

Jain stood up with him. "We'll need our five, and at least five more, all archers, all steady hands." Jain paused and looked south, as if he could see the Trollocs moving there in the distance. "And horses. How far to Barrow?"

"A long ride. Six hours, five maybe in good weather, on fast horses."

Jain sighed in relief. Trollocs could move as fast as horses. But dawn was only a few hours away. They could travel -and fight - in broad daylight, but they would not do so unless absolutely necessary. Even a Myrddraal would have trouble pushing them to that. No, the halfman would run them until dawn then hole up and wait for nightfall. Peet knew this as well as Jain.

"Can you get the men we need, and supplies for overnight, as well as the horses?"

"Yes…" Peet answered hesitantly, then with more certainty "Yes. We can get them. Many of the folk here have relatives in Barrow. They'll help with what they can, and others will join in because…" he trailed off. They would join because they had lost friends and family this night and had the fire of Manetheren in their blood. "They'll come. How soon?"

"No hurry. We have an hour… they'll leave an easy trail." Jain gave a nasty grin and added, "That lot don't think they'll be chased."

 _No hurry he says_ , Peet thought as he turned away, _then gives me a whole hour, as if he were giving me a week._ "You're a hard man Jain," he called back over his shoulder.

Far less than an hour later they were off, and Jain proved to be right about the trail. With the clouds broken and bright moonlight shining it took no woodcraft at all to track the shadow spawn.

Jain's only concern was that the Myrddraal would have eyes out to warn if they were being followed. But that was most unlikely with the fierce pace they had set. The halfman clearly had a plan – or orders - to be somewhere, and would not fear any villagers enough to change that plan. Nonetheless, Jain insisted the rest of his men held well back as they followed the stinking Trollocs. He stayed fifty paces ahead so that he could see, hear, and smell without interference.

He needed no mount himself. Horses were noisy and smelly, and he could set a plenty fast pace without one. In fact, some of their ponies were going to struggle to keep up with him… especially those bearing the blacksmith and the miller. And the butcher of course. The butcher looked like a giant side of beef himself, but Jain had seen him kneel with his bow and drop three Trollocs in a span of 15 seconds - as steady as any Sheinaran might have done with fire and death all around him. An excellent man to have with them.

Three hours later, intent on his speed, Jain nearly passed the dark fork in the road before his sub-conscious kicked him hard enough to make him stop. No tracks ahead of him; certainly not enough to indicate the passing of two dozen Trollocs. He stood and waited for Peet to ride up.

"Why have they gone that way?" He muttered.

Peet did not hear the question, but he called back to their small band, "What lies down on this road?"

"The Tschudy farm, which it is not far, two miles or a bit more. Sheep and cattle… and the Tschudy family. Fourteen of them last I knew, counting the grans and the infants." It sounded like the blacksmith who answered.

Jain grunted affirmative and took the new path, increasing his pace from a jog to an outright run. Peet held everyone else back until Jain had his lead again before following.

In less than three minutes, Jain slowed then turned and ran back to them, holding his hands up to signal the men to stop and be silent. He was delighted at how well Peet's newcomers fit in, with nothing to be heard from them but quiet breathing.

"They've stopped ahead." He said. "They've killed sheep and eaten them." Some of the men raised an eyebrow at this. Impossible to know that unless he had seen them, and he had never gone far enough ahead to do that. Trollocs were noisy and no one could hear a thing above the wind in the trees. Nobody but Jain Farstrider.

"What buildings lie down this road, say a half a mile from here?" Jain asked.

Den Bowen spoke up "That would be the Tschudy's out barn that would. Where they store their winter feed for the cattle and all."

Jain tightened his eyes and nodded. "Right then. That's where they will hole up for the day. Even Trollocs have to sleep, and they got less meat and more fight than they bargained for from your lot today. We'll take them there. Let's get off the road and plan. Peet, set a watch, and make it on all sides. They may have a rendezvous planned, with other joining them. It ain't likely, but worth our lives to ignore the chance."

Several of the men looked around, suddenly aware that they might not be so alone as they thought.

"Every man who watches keeps an arrow nocked. You see a raven, shoot it. You see a Trolloc, hide from it and return to us. If you can't hide from it, shoot it and get back here at a run… but don't let that happen! You hide! Understood?" They grunted assent and he led them off the road.

-0-

Two hours later the rising sun was just above the mountains to his right, lighting the east side of the barn as if it were already on fire. That was lucky. It would hide what he was doing.

The men were set in their positions to the east and west of the south facing door. Jain trusted Peet to hold their discipline when the time came. Not a sound and not a move until the Trollocs broke, and not even then; just shoot them as they came. No standing, no shouting… nothing to give away their positions. Let them run in circles a bit, but be sure to get them all. Every last one. He had no doubt of his plan. Under a Myrrdraal, Trollocs could be fierce warriors. But they were not strategists, and were ineffective without a leader. He was hoping to keep their leader very busy… until it was dead.

He crawled to the edge of the forest then went down on his belly to cross the fifty yards or so of open field. The grass was nearly tall enough to hide him, and the breeze was in his face. It was just enough edge to maybe get him from the trees to the barn and back to the trees again, alive. Maybe. _Burn all Trollocs and double burn all Fades with them! What am I doing here chasing dark folk when I could be sitting by a fire in Tear, watching the dancers and listening to the rain? You're a twice blind fool Jain Charin! They should call you Farfool, not Farstrider!_

He stopped thinking then, and moved into the void… moved like the breeze and the grass and the sighing of the earth, moved like nothing at all until he knelt against the wooden wall of the barn. He drew the small basket from his waist and opened it, sighing with internal relief as he saw the glow of the still living ember. Farmer Tschudy would not like this plan, but it was mid-summer and the hay was not yet in. Better to lose an empty outbarn than face two score of Trollocs… and the halfman that led them.

As soon as he opened its cage, the ember flared with the fresh air. He quickly put his little handful of dried grass against the wall and dumped the ember on it. The breeze immediately stoked it, and the grass caught. More grass… a handful of twigs, another handful… the flame was strong and the wall caught. Jain waited a moment to be sure, then turned and began to worm his way back to the trees. Not in the void, but slowly, just like before, nothing to rouse even the most watchful owl or most timid squirrel. No looking back… just keep moving until he reached the treeline, then a bit farther around behind a stump, and ease up just as slowly to a sitting position… and listen. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen…Den Bowen had promised him that Tschudy kept that barn near empty this time of year. Not much hay there, and he needed it to catch and burn fast… too fast for even an alert Trolloc to stop before it was running wild through the barn, filling it with smoke and fire. Not that they were alert. From the sounds, or lack of it, they were all asleep. Or at least all but the Fade: Jain did not believe that that kind ever did sleep.

He dropped his cloak to the ground, stood up and stepped back down the trail across his trip line. He loosened his Heron blade then lifted his bow from the ground where he had left it and checked the string: still serviceable. The first yell came, and even though he had expected it, he jumped and pulled his sword half out of its sheath, then dropped it back down and nocked an arrow.

Peet heard the first yell and held up a fist in prearranged signal. He wanted his men to hold fire until the Trollocs were fairly streaming out the door. The screeching and howling increased in the barn, and the door finally burst open, with the Trolloc demons rushing out in a mass like they were escaping from the fires of hell, drawing their swords and scattering wildly, looking for the enemy. He dropped his hand suddenly, heard the flight of arrows around him and saw a number of Trollocs stumble or fall completely.

Drawing his own bow, he chose a target that was moving south, fired, and watched him go down. The men were silently drawing and firing now, each one picking his own target. No one saying a word. The Trollocs swirled and suddenly seemed to realize where the arrows were coming from. The dozen still alive charged them and four went down with wild gurgling cries. The remaining turned on their heels and fled in the opposite direction. Each received a pair of arrows in the chest before he could take three steps. They staggered on, taking more arrows from both sides, then all fell. The Fade stood alone. He looked about then turned swiftly back to the north and disappeared behind the barn, heading directly toward the trail where Jain was waiting. Peet sighed, and heard grunts of satisfaction around him. Seasoned men who knew better than to cheer just yet, but still much relieved. And rightly proud of the job they had done. Most of them had not seen the Fade, but they knew he was there, and knew they had not taken him down.

Jain Farstrider saw him coming at almost the same moment. He drew and fired. The arrow disappeared into the dark, and he knew it had been well shot, but the Fade did not seem even to notice. He drew and fired again, then again. Now the Fade was coming faster. Once more he fired, from no more than twenty yards. A shot that would have split a man's breastbone, but the fade came on as Jain knew it would. An arrow might slow them, might even injure them, but he had never seen a halfman go down to anything but cold steel. Or the One Power, but he had no Aes Sedai to help him now.

Tossing his bow aside he drew the blade and growled "come on then!"

With three steps between them, Jain leapt forward to take advantage of his foe when he tripped or stumbled over the line. As he moved, he saw the creature had the Dark One's own luck with him, stepping perfectly without touching the line. The halfman's blade rose readily and whirled about to slash Jain's head off with the first blow. Jain threw himself down and to the left, slashing for the legs as he rolled and spun to his feet. The blow was not solid, but not a miss either. First score to Jain, even if it was not the fight ending strike he's hoped the trip line would give him.

Unfazed, the halfman stepped in and began a furious attack… like the boar running down the mounting but using one handed pattern Jain had never seen. Time after time he parried, each blow closer than the last. He retreated as quickly as he could over the memorized terrain to put a stout oak tree at his left shoulder, heard rather than saw the blade hit the tree beside him, felt the wood chips spray his face then leaned in and stabbed straight ahead. It was like sticking a frozen pig with a fork and he barely freed his blade in time to parry the next blow. That was two scores. Lurks were tough, but not invulnerable. Twice he had cut this one. It was still standing but he knew it could not be as strong as it had been.

"Give in to me, and I will kill you quickly." The Myrdrall hissed. "Continue to fight me and you will be carried back to my master for his pleasure." Many would freeze on hearing that voice, but the halfman was not facing one of them.

"Give in to me, and I will cut off your head and burn your remains." Jain replied. "But I am going to do that whether you give in or not."

The Myrdraal stepped quickly to his left where he could bring his right hand to bear more effectively, but Jain retreated just as quickly, using the oak tree to protect his left side. Jain could not see its expression, but it paused, confused. Few men had the courage to stand and fight this way, and this one had not faced these tactics before. A man who would neither attack nor run, but simply stand by a tree and parry.

From nowhere, an arrow chunked into the tree between them. The halfman startled and Jain stabbed him directly in the throat. He staggered back and Jain followed, swinging his blade in a tight arc, beheading him. No Trollocs were still alive to howl at this death and Jain laughed out loud.

"Well shot Peet! I thought you would never arrive! Perhaps you were busy admiring my bladework?"

Peet laughed in return. "I wondered if I should not just leave the two of you to dance a bit more, but you appeared to be taking your time about it and I was afraid the men would grow restless if left overnight by themselves."

"Bah!" Jain barked, but laughed again. "At least you are here to help me drag him over with the rest of them." He reached down and grabbed the Mydrall's head by its hair using his gloved right hand. With his other hand he grabbed a wrist on the dead body and Peet grabbed the other. Together they dragged it back to the burning barn where their men had also thrown the dead Trollocs.

The barn was in full flames and they tossed the body then retreated. In the fading twilight the flames grew brighter, illuminating the was no saving the barn, but the men were busy putting out the flying sparks before they set the entire field and forest afire.

Shouts of dismay reached them from the trees and moments later Famer Tschudy burst into view, followed closely by his six sons, then by his wife, then two of his five daughters. All were carrying buckets in one hand and bows in the other.

Tschudy stopped short and fell dead silent as he saw the situation. He held up his hand to stop his advancing family. The men who had started the fire were still there, over a dozen of them, and all warriors to his view. More than enough to overwhelm him and his boys. His life suddenly became more important than the barn. Before he could move back, Den Bowen called to him above the sound of the flames and wind.

"Master Tschudy. We regret the loss of your barn, but I'm sure you'll agree it was a good exchange in trade for your lives. Come over here and speak to Master Jain."

Tschudy did not move, but answered. "That sounds a like the voice to Master Bowen, but I've a no idea why he would be a burnin' down my barn."

"It is Den Bowen, and the burnin' of your barn was a sad order, but it was for the killing of Trollocs. Come over here and see for yourself."

"Sounding is not the same as being. Tell me Den Bowen how you know me." As he spoke, Tschudy signaled his family to stay back. It sounded like Den for certain, but that made no sense.

"Because I come to your farm every year to buy brandy, and last year we sat and told stories until the wee hours so that I woke the next mornin' on your floor, that's how." Den did not mention that Master Tschudy's family were all far too stout to outrun a scrabbling hen, much less armed men.

"So in exchange for my hospitality you've burned my barn have you?" Tschudy walked toward them his clan following. "And you say there was Trollocs? I don't suppose there be any more of them Trollocs nearby or you'd not be a shouting this way with me?" As he finished he came close enough to see the pile of dead and held his arm out once again. "No closer there Marwy." He said. "No need to see this."

"Plenty of Trollocs nearby, Master Tschudy, but all dead." Jain spoke out and approached. "I regret the loss of your barn. I hope the village councils hereabout will see fit to compensate you properly. As you can see, we had a serious problem on our hands, and it was my judgment that losing a barn was better than losing many lives… or even one life for that matter."

"Your judgment was it? And who be you to make such a judgment stranger?" Tschudy was polite but the man was a stranger and his accent gave him away as a foreigner to boot: never trustworthy.

"I'm Jain Chavin." Jain paused and looked at Peet. "Some call me Farstrider." Peet had named him that, and it had stuck, even preceding him in his travels.

The entire Tschudy family whoofed as if they had been knocked in the stomach. Wane Tschudy looked at Den Bowed, who nodded affirmative.

"No offense Master Farstrider. We be but simple country folk, with simple country manners, which is as to say not much manners at all. But we are that grateful for your help, and I hope you'll give me pardon and accept my hospitality. You and all your men. The sun will be full up soon and I have no doubt you're all sharp set for a bite this morning."

Several of the men said "aye" or grunted yes, and Jain agreed. "We would be honored, but only if Mistress Tschudy agrees. Milady?"

Marwy Tschudy giggled at being called "milady" by Jain Farstrider. Him practically being a prince she thought to herself, and me giggling like a schoolgirl still not in braids. She hurumphed to pull herself together, then curtsied. "We would be honored to have Master Farstrider at our table, would we not family?" She turned and glared at her children; the girls curtsied in turn and the boys knuckled their brows as they hurried to agree.

Farmer Tschudy's eye just grew wider. He was quite certain he had heard his wife giggle, and equally certain he would never speak of that to no man, nor no woman neither, for all his life, if he valued his own skin.

"Well then, are you going to stand there ogling your guests like a mooncalf or are you going to show these good sirs the path to our home?" Mistress Tschudy was once again in full command of herself and the situation. Jain Farstrider it may be, like riding straight out of a fairytale, but he was still just a man, and no more a match for a goodwife of the Manetheren than any other.

The Tschudy house was set in the cleft of a mountain… a canyon really. It was huge two story affair, built up against a sheer cliff on one side and from the same stone, added on generation after generation until it was a sprawling near-castle.

A pair of young ones unbarred the door from the inside at her command, and Mistress Tschudy led them all into the home. Jain was escorted by the eldest daughter, a tall red head with bold green eyes. She slipped her arm through his and described the building as they passed through. He knew the women of Manetheren were bold and confident, but this behavior outright tied his tongue. Behind him, Peet grinned; the pretty young Manetheren girl would give Jain more trouble than any Trollocs. If Mistress or Master Tschudy noticed, they did not comment. Their Teva wore the braids, showing she was of age to make her own decisions about men, as well as all else.

Beyond the fortified entry was the sitting room, with a huge fireplace and couches and chairs enough for the whole family to spend the long winter evenings. Along the hall was the library where the Tschudy's kept their books, their good weapons, and other such treasures. Farther along the great kitchen, with a huge table for twenty in the middle. Behind it, built right into the natural caves, were room after room of storage, for wine and beer and dried meats and grains and cheese and tobacco. A famous larder in the country.

In all, the home spoke of comfort and ease and family. The comfort and ease of many successful generations of good men and women who knew what they were about. Jain took it all in with genuine wonder. He had seen many marvelous things, but never a thing like this. His life had been travel and fighting and politics and warriors and wealth and everything else the Wheel spun out… but not this. Not peace and plenty that felt as if there had never been anything but peace and plenty for as long as the wheel had turned.

Teva sat Jain at the place of honor, closest to the fire and to the kitchen. He thought she might sit next to him, but instead she directed her father to his right hand and Peet to his left. Den Bowen and the others she left to themselves. Many of them had been here before on business (that often turned to pleasure), and they could right well find their own seats as far as she was concerned.

Jain's relief at the seating order was short lived. Rather than sitting beside him, the girl stood just behind at his left her younger siblings brought in the pitchers of beer, she leaned warmly against him to pour his tankard full. Jain tried to pretend he did not care, but his pink face gave him away.

When the wildfowl came next, Teva put her mouth close to his ear and asked "Do you prefer the breast or the leg Master Farstrider?"

"I… I… I… either will… will be… f… f… fine." Jain's stuttered response was the source of much merriment and whispering at the lower end of the table. They had not heard the question but they did see Jain squirming in his chair.

Jain glared at Matt Mattson, even as his face turned a brighter red. Matt looked down but the Tschudy girls giggled aloud. They were avid students of Teva's demonstration, and looked forward eagerly to the day when they had the face and figure to have this effect on men.

Wane Tchudy, his face deep in a pot of ale, noticed none of this, but Mistress Tschudy was standing ready.

"Here now!" She glared at the younger girls. "Standing about and cackling like a brood of fool hens when our guests are like famished from saving your lives!"

Teva paled when she realized her mother had been watching. Mistress Tschudy would say nothing else in front of the guests - she did not even look at Teva - but her disapproval was more than enough threat. At the thought of her mother's words she sped from the room after her sisters.

Jain buried his face in his beer, feigning indifference to the whole thing, but behind the cup he smiled. He had been flirted with many times, but always before it had been Dais Daimar or some other fool game, not real. Not like this. And she was very pretty. Old fool! Jain thought. It's _all_ a game to pretty young girls. You are nothing to her! Just another easy target for her charms.

Early the next morning, before light, when all the rest were presumably asleep, Jain and Peet went out alone to scout. Finding Trollocs this far east was unusual, especially in such large numbers. They might have been nothing but a random pack; nothing more than bad intentions with a taste for new flesh. But it might be something more. It was never wise to take Trollocs or other foul folk for granted. That was a mistake you rarely survived.

They walked back South as far as the forks. It was still dark, but the nearly full moon gave plenty of light to keep the trail. Jain saw, heard, and smelled nothing that indicated more Trollocs were nearby, but still he felt uneasy. The forest was too quiet, tense and waiting.

"We must go and wake the others." He said.

Peet wanted to ask why, but knew there was no reason: just Jain's feeling. Jain's feelings were what had kept them alive thus far, and it was plenty good for Peet. Without a word he turned and set a brisk pace for the Tschudy farm.

It was just dawn when they arrived. Teva and the girls were out gathering eggs. The boys were milking the cows. Master and Mistress Tschudy were nowhere to be seen.

Jain shook his head unhappily. A horde of Trollocs had been here not eight hours ago, and the Tschudys were acting like it was just another Spring day!

"Here, boy!" he shouted furiously at the nearest boy. "Where are your parents?"

The two boys turned on their milking stools and paled. The expression on Jain's face was terrifying.

"We dunno, Master Farstrider sir." The older of the two knuckled his forehead and kept his eyes down. "Maybe at the east barn. Or maybe down ta Piper's mill to order wood for the new one." He trailed off, and Jain thought he heard a bit of accusation in his tone.

"Agh!" Jain grunted. "Peet, gather up those girls and get them inside. Find out if they know where their folks have gone." Peet hustled away toward the chicken coop. "You boys finish up and run that milk inside, pronto. Wake up the house if any are still asleep. Be sure all the men know I want them dressed and armed now. Now, do ye hear me!"

Jain turned to the path to the barn. Wait for his men, or go now? His sense of urgency was bursting. No time to wait… trouble was here now! He sprinted away from the house in the direction of the barn.

Once in the trees, every instinct screamed for him to get off the trail, out of sight, but he ignored it and sped ahead. He reached out to the void, reached out for any sound or smell that might warn him of what was ahead, but it all slipped away as he ran. Why was he so frightened? That was no way to enter a conflict. Certainly no way to hunt demons of the Blight. The void was out of reach to his pounding heart.

The wind was behind him, and any Trollocs ahead would almost certainly smell him and hear him coming. Okay. So let them. If they know you are coming, you can still gain the edge by arriving before they think you can. _Time to really move, Jain Farstrider!_

He hit the open field in full stride and let his momentum carry him right on past the barn rubble and through to the other side and his hiding spot by the Oak. Nothing. No shouts, no Trollocs, no Tschudy's. Nothing at all. He stopped and calmed himself. The thundering in his heart slowed. _Where were they?_ Across the field, a single crow launched itself and flapped away to the south. Barrow was south. _Barrow has trouble coming!_ Jain turned and ran back for the farm.

-0-

Teva put her racing saddle on Needletail and slipped away without telling any of the men. Her sisters knew, and would tell before letting anyone start a search for her. Jain had said to fetch her parents home; he might not have let her go, so she had to sneak out, no choice. With Needy _she_ was the best choice. She knew the trail better and could do it faster and safer than anyone. Especially any fool man! The trail swallowed her with no shouts or warning from behind. She set Needy into a trot and tried to keep her eyes open. It felt silly, it was the same trail she had ridden a hundred times over, a sweet, quiet trail of fragrant trees and flowers. But there were the burned barn and the dead Trollocs behind her. And Jain Farstrider. The _real_ Jain Farstrider, though she had trouble believing it. She shivered. Needy felt it, and perked up his own attention.

The Pipers, and their mill, lived on the Woodbine spring, which flowed about a mile before running into the Mist fork of the Manatherendrelle at Barrow. It was a 10 mile ride almost due south, an easy two hours even on a fat slow pony, and Needletail was anything but that. Teva did not push him, but gave him his head, and the tall slim stallion settled into a brisk walk that he could sustain all day with her light load. She let her eyes close. Little sleep the night before, warm day, warm smells, she nodded along and let herself relax. The Trollocs were far behind, and dead besides. Jain was a typical man, finding danger behind every bush and bull. The Trollocs were all dead. If they really were Trollocs. No one had let her close enough to see with her own eyes. Her whole family had seemed to lose their heads on meeting Jain Farstrider. And who was to say that was really him? Den Bowen? He hadn't been more than a day's ride from his farm since the day of his birth. Blacksmith Aybar and Butcher Al'Mare, hadn't been that far. None of them would know Jain Farstrider from an Aielman!

She had just about convinced herself the whole thing was a mistake when Needletail pulled up short, snorted, and reared, nearly throwing her from the saddle. Her eyes popped open and she fought the reins to stop him as he reeled and tried to dash back up the trail the way they had come. He settled and stopped, still owl headed and blowing rollers, but stopped.

The forest was still quiet. Teva could see nothing down the trail behind them, but Needy didn't spook for squirrels or birds or anything else short of a mountain lion. If there HAD been a mountain lion, he was gone now. Teva dismounted, tied her reins to a bush, and walked slowly back down the trail. She had a skinning knife, drawn, but nothing else. Her woodcraft was not up to Master Cauthen's, but she could read tracks, and heart was halfway into her throat when she saw a large cloven hoof print, too big for a sheep or a goat. Much too big, and too deep. Ahead, she saw more of the same, and other tracks she could not identify, all entering the trail from the trees to the east.

-0-

Master Tschudy plodded along next to his wife, both of them letting their ponies dawdle and even graze a trailside flower now and then, the loaded mule trailing along and doing the same. Marwy had insisted on coming; Barrow was only a mile past the Pipers and she wanted to go into town to trade brandy for linens, and two of her girls could use winter shoes.

Barrow, or Barrow Town, was named for its primary trade; the manufacture of Oak barrels. Huge five layer pyramid rafts of them were floated down the Manetherendrelle river to Illian, and there sold to the Atha'an Miere to carry goods ranging from wine, to grains, silk, nails, and any other thing that might suffer from exposure to salt water. Some of the barrels came back up river by wagon, full of rope, nails, salted fish, meats, pottery, patterned cloths, and other delicacies most desired by Two Rivers folk.

The trail to Barrow cut east a half mile short of the Pipers. They stopped there. With their early start, even dawdling as they were, they would arrive in town before any but the baker had opened shop. They could be finished and back to deal with the miller not much after noon. Or Marwy could go on into town and Wane could go straight to the mill to handle business and join her later. Marwy was hoping to be left alone for a bit, to shop on her own, without her husband chivying her. And he knew he could trust her to get a fair trade for the brandy at one of the several Inns. More than he would get, most likely, especially if she dealt with the Master rather than the Mistress; Teva's young beauty came straight from her mother.

Wane wanted to let her go on her own-it would please her, and give him more time to look through the miller's stock and make his choices. But he was slower to forget the bodies he had seen but two nights earlier. Dead Trollocs, right there in his own fields. And if they could be there, they could be anywhere he supposed. Even right here, right up next to civilization so to speak.

"You need a day on your own to enjoy Marwy. The Light knows you've earned it this summer. Will you keep me company to the Piper's then ride on yourself down the main road to town?" It was a compromise. He was still leaving her alone, but at least the main fork road was better traveled, safer from wild animals, safer from thieves, and safer from darkspawn if it came to that. With luck, Mistress Piper and son might even join her, so she wouldn't be alone. That was a good thought. Yes, a much better plan.

Marwy looked east down the trail. It was all dappled sunlight and flowers, as innocent as any summer day, and she felt a foolish child at her own hesitation. "I suppose I can travel just a bit further to hold your hand if you're nervous," she said light-heartedly, "but you'll not keep me there long. It's a quick hello and off to town." She was glad for the suggestion, as it saved her making excuses, but there was no need for her husband to know that. His head was full enough of himself as it was.

Master Tschudy kneed his pony over beside hers and reached out his hand. "Good then. Hold my hand you will." They rode on.

-0-

Teva had to think. Go back and fetch Jain and his men, or ride ahead alone, risking… she did not want to think about that. Her parents decided her. They were somewhere ahead, and the Trollocs were also somewhere ahead, presumably behind her parents. She could not simply ride away and leave them. Trollocs were fast, known to be nearly as fast as horses. But few horses were as fast as her Needletail, named for the spine tailed Swift so common in the Mist mountains. She would continue to the mill. If she saw or heard Trollocs she would turn about and run, hopefully enticing them into a futile chase after her, leaving her parents safe. She guessed she hoped for that. What else was there?

She lay down on Needy's neck and talked to him in a low voice. "Let's go boy. I know it smells funny but that's okay. That's a good boy. "We'll have a great big bag of oats as soon as we get there. Good boy." Whether it was her tone, or his understanding of the bribe offered, Needletail walked reluctantly ahead. Soon, when he had accustomed himself somewhat to the smell, she coaxed him into a trot.

Needy was feeling better about it but Teva was feeling worse. Judging by the tracks, there were at least three dozen of the creatures ahead. Occasionally she recognized the print of one of her father's horseshoes, often overlaid with another impossibly deep and hideous print There was no doubt her parents were ahead, and being trailed by the shadowspawn.

Within a few miles she reached the fork to Barrow and hopped down to look more closely. The Trollocs had definitely continued due south, to the Pipers. Her stomach sank. Too few people there, too many Trollocs. Hopefully, she searched the east trail for the pony tracks. If they had just chosen to go straight to town…

After three minutes spent searching the along the east trail for over 100 yards, she gave up. They had not come this way, but headed straight for the mill. Which way should she go? South, to the mill, or east, to Barrow for help… if they would even send it. Like falling down hill she was drawn south. It was no choice at all.

-0-

No more than 20 minutes after quizzing the boys, Jain had the Tschudy family barricaded in their home and his men back on the trail. None of his men had wanted to stay behind, but he had convinced Den Bowen they couldn't leave a handful of girls and small boys alone. Especially after he learned that the oldest sister had gone to chase down her parents. Blast all hotheaded women folk! They could never listen, never follow, and never even get out of the way!

Once again the lead out, having Peet keep the rest well back so he would have a chance to sniff out any ambush ahead of them. He broke into a run, as fast as he thought the slowest pony could manage for the distance. 10 miles to the mill, they said, and 11 to Barrow. He ran and hoped. Nothing else for it.

When he reached the point in the trail where the Trollocs had come out of the forest, he stopped and signaled the rest to join him. "What lies east?"

"Nobbut woods and more woods for many a mile." That was Cawten, a farmer, but a hunter as well.

Where they had come from, there could be more. No choice but to ignore it.

"Trollocs ahead, boys. A pack of them. Maybe more than we killed last night." _(Definitely more! But he did not need to tell them that.)_ "They won't be looking for trouble from behind anu more than that last lot, and we want to keep it that way. Silent riding. Tie up anything that rattles or jangles. There is a good chance we be in the middle of them soon, so set your minds to it. You're all good men. Keep your wits about you, and you'll sleep safe tonight. Not a word now. Not a sound. No matter what you see, on your life, you stay quiet." He took the time to look each man in the eye. Grim faced, each nodded in turn. Trollocs here could mean Trollocs at home again. Better to kill them all now than run home and wait for that.

Jain took off again, this time signaling Peet to stay up with him. Based on their tracks these Trollocs were in a hurry to get somewhere, and would not be leaving sentries behind.

In less than an hour Jain came across the Barrow fork. Peet had told him to expect it. He longed to go fetch reinforcements, but that would take too long. He had to move now!

-0-

Teva smelled smoke ahead and dismounted her horse, leading him off the trail by fifty yards then south again. He seemed more subdued now, resigned to her demands. Soon she heard shouting, wild yells of rage and fear. Needy refused to move another step. Well enough. She tied his reins and moved ahead, crouching and staying well hidden right up to the edge of the forest.

Ahead of her was a scene from hell. The Piper's home was burning, and thirty or more Trollocs had surrounded the mill tower and were attempting to beat the door down. Frozen, dreading to see any humans, she watched as several fought over the meat of two dead ponies. Suddenly one of the Trollocs fell to the ground, an arrow through its neck. She looked up and saw her father in an upper window, the miller beside him, both wielding longbows. They had made it to the tower in time and had barricaded themselves in! Safe for now! But how long until the Trollocs burned them out? Her plan had been to ride Needy to lead them away on a chase. If so, now was the time. Her stomach flopped to think of it. Ride out into the middle of that chaos? By choice?

From the window, her father had killed another Trolloc, and roared his defiance at them, bellowing like an enraged bull." To the side, she saw a halfman, what could only be a halfman even though they weren't real, beginning the scale the stone wall, sticking to it like a summer lizard. No! She ran back to Needy and jumped on putting her heels to him with all her might.

"Come on Needy, COME ON! COME ON!" She found herself shouting incoherently as she rode straight at the tower. "Eaagh! COME ON!"

-0-

Jain heard the fight ahead long before his men. From the sounds of it, the miller and at least a few other had managed to barricade themselves in and were still fighting… for now. He was not going to be able to trap the Trollocs in a barn, but he would us the same tactics. "Spread out, stay hidden, take them from a distance with arrows. Perimeter of the forest, all to the east of the trail. Five yards between each man. Stay quiet, even when you start shooting… not a word, hear? When you see my first arrow, everyone else to fire. But not a sound. With luck we will drop half of them before they know where we are. Go! Go!" The men went, not as quietly as he had hoped, but quickly. And given the shouting ahead he doubted any Trollocs would hear them coming.

He let them spread, then crawled up to where he could see. It was better than he hoped. The men were not in the home, but in the stone mill tower. Master Tschudy was doing good work from the upper window. He had no angle to shoot at those working their axes on the door, though, and in a minute or two it would be down. Worse yet, their Fade had just reached the stone wall and was climbing up. If he got in the tower they were all dead. It might do no good, but that was Jain's first target. As he stood and raised his bow, a howl came from his right and he was nearly bowled over by a stallion leaping into the field. It was Teva, red hair flying wildly behind her, riding straight at the melee! Before he could move, she had charged past the tower to the main road, at least half a dozen Trollocs chasing her. It was out of range for Jain, but their leader fell flat, an arrow through his neck. Her father!

Jain fired uselessly at the Myrddraal, and a moment later a volley of arrows dropped half a dozen Trollocs at the tower door. The halfman paused, then leaped down from the wall and gained his horse. He spun his horse and fled down the river road after Teva. The Trollocs still on their feet sprinted after him. Jain's men and her father cut down another half a dozen with arrows before they were out of sight, but at least 20 of them had escaped. Jain sprinted from the forest to the tower.

-0-

As she hit the main road Teva could hear the howls following her. It had worked! She glanced back and saw that only half a dozen were after her. The rest had stayed at the tower. Light! What could she do? She realized that a pig-snouted monster was actually gaining on her. For now to run was the only thing she could do. She heeled him lightly, and Needy sped up. Another glance back and the Trollocs were losing ground, spreading as their leader outran the rest. Should she slow as well, to keep them coming? As she watched, he stopped and howled in frustration. Suddenly he was passed by a black shadow on black horse. It was the Myrddraal! Oh light! Not the Fade. "Go now Needy! Run!" she leaned down and spoke into her horse's ear. He heard her urgency and responded, somehow getting even lower and stretching his stride into an even longer and smoother pace. Behind her, she could hear the pounding of hooves. Barrow was not far, but leading a Myrddraal and a howling pack of Trollocs into the market would be disastrous. Not her plan.

Teva stood lightly in her short stirrups, crouched and balanced, her head out of the wind just the way her father had taught her for the racetrack. Behind her she could hear the halfman hissing curses as he chased. His horse's pounding hooves were not gaining, but neither were they falling away. He was holding even, for now. Ahead, she could see the Barrow wall, just over a half a mile away; the cutoff would be… here! She wheeled Needy to the left and leaned low over his shoulder as they hit the small cross trail that led to the forest road. Behind her, the Myrddraal missed the trail, turned his horse and thrashed through the brush. She had opened her lead, but he was still there, as she hoped… and feared. She hoped her father had an arrow nocked!

-0-

Jain's men charged from the forest behind him, using knives and clubs to finish any injured shadowspawn they came across. The miller and master Tschudy burst from the tower, running for the river. They had seen the Myrddraal chasing Teva. "Teva," Master Tschudy cried out, "Teva!" She was out of sight.

Jain shouted to his men. "To your horses and with me!" He sprinted to the main road after Teva and the shadowspawn, far outpacing the two plump men. No time to wait for them. Without looking back to see who followed, Jain lowered his head and set himself to run. He had outrun Aielmen in the waste, and he would run today like he never had before. That fool girl was not going to die! Not today! Not before he could answer her question, by the Light!

Jain ran around a small bend and saw the pack of Trollocs ahead, perhaps twenty of them, jogging slowly after their master, apparently confused. Jain stopped, took a calming breath, and put his last arrow squarely through the slowest beast's spine. It turned to face him, then crumpled to the ground without a sound. It dawned on him that it might not be necessary to kill a Myrddraal in order to cripple his Trollocs; perhaps distance could do it as well? He chose his next target and dropped him as well, but this time the Ram-headed atrocity howled as he fell. The rest of the pack stopped and turned to face their pursuer. Disorganized, first one then another charged this new enemy. He drew his sword and waited.

When just a few yards separated them, an arrow appeared in the chest of their leader. Jain stepped forward and beheaded him, and the rest of the pack scattered into the trees. His mean had arrived! And he would lay odds the butcher had taken shot over his shoulder. "Pursue!" he shouted. "None escape!" The Trollocs' sudden flight caught the men by surprise, many of them already off their horses. A moment later the gathered themselves and charged their horses up the bank, Jain scrambling after to join the chase.

The brush was thick and thorny, but it barely slowed the huge Trollocs. Jain followed the trail one had made, forced to dodge where a Trolloc could smash through. Around him, Jain heard the shouts of his men as they directed each other. Slowly they gained, but it did seem as if the Trollocs had gained new energy. The forest thinned and the chase closed. Suddenly, the entire pack of shadowspawn and men tumbled down a bank into an open road. Jain rolled to his feet, facing the nearest Trolloc.

Needy barreled through the melee undeterred, if anything finding even more speed. Teva had abandoned her racing stance was laid flat over the horse's neck, headed back to the mill her father's bow. But where had these other men come from? Was that Jain? And the butcher? Thirty yards on, she realized there was no pursuer and reined Needletail in.

All the Trollocs were down, as was the halfman's horse. Surrounded, he hissed and charged at Jain. Jain flicked his hand and a knife appeared in the Fade's throat. Another flick, another knife, this one in the mouth. Still he came forward, like a bird's shadow. From behind, the butcher stepped up and split him near in half from top to bottom. He kicked the body off his sword and looked at in with distaste. "Rotten meat." He said, then turned to Master Tschudy. "We can't even feed that to your pigs."

Teva looked around. The sun was just reaching the tops of the trees… maybe 9:00 AM? Jain had plopped himself on the ground, sitting against a tree. Exhaustion and relief mixed. She trotted the rapidly calming Needletail into the middle of the group. "Father, I'll be off to gather your wife and we'll be for home." She looked at Jain. "When you've cleaned this up we'll have your supper on the table." Jain wasn't sure, but he thought she might have winked at him! What was that supposed to mean!


End file.
